


God Rising: The Cult of Ainz

by atheistbasementdragon



Category: Overlord - Maruyama Kugane & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-05-30 17:30:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19407997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atheistbasementdragon/pseuds/atheistbasementdragon
Summary: Our story begins with Neia Baraja being given the task of rebuilding the capital city.  Along the way, she will remake the world, with Ainz Ooal Gown as its rightful god...but not everybody wants that to happen, and they will wage the greatest war in history to stop it.





	1. The Work Begins

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first fanfiction I've ever written, and I've had a lot of fun with it so far, it will probably end at about 150 chapters, and it is up to 77 so far...not counting all the other side stories and whatnot I've put together with it to further develop this amazing world. 
> 
> I think one of my favorite aspects of writing is the interaction with readers, so with that in mind if you're so inclined, feel free to join my Overlord Fanfiction discord server, here is the invite code: /hJrfday

Neia wasn't tired. Or so she told herself. She sighed heavily and began to speak, softly under her breath. "I'm lying to myself again. But...it's a productive lie at least, if I can fake it enough, my energy will come back...somewhat, if not much...and I can sleep when I'm dead...well...unless I become undead, like his majesty." At her own spoken reflection, she drifted off into thoughts of admiration. She missed him quite a bit, more so than she did any of the seniors she had worked with before they essentially stopped being seniors. Caspond had put her in charge of rebuilding the capital, and so she reported directly to him and interacted directly with the Sorcerer King's representatives for aid distribution.

She laughed when she thought of the shock on the noble's faces when her name was spoken, and she was appointed to the task.

"Majesty...shouldn't it be nobles who rebuild...?" One of them had said, too stunned to even consider a crafty response as someone one step removed from the common soldier...a mere squire, was given the overwhelming task.

Caspond shook his head, "In other circumstances, I would say yes. However the nobles were given three chances at reconstruction for the nation, and each time we were beset by waste, mismanagement, and outright fraud! If we wish to have the Sorcerer King support us for the fourth time..." putting emphasis on the word 'fourth', for the absurd amount of times the Sorcerer King has forgiven the corrupt country. "we must ensure it succeeds. To ensure this, we must appoint someone he trusts to the head of reconstruction.". Neia Baraja is the perfect choice for that role, she acted as the Sorcerer King's personal squire, she was with him in battle, she was by his side almost every day save for the period of time when he was missing, and it was she who spread his fame among the people, if she appeals to him for anything, it is more likely to be granted than if a request came from anyone else. Plus...do you really want to deal directly with the undead or his monsters?" He said powerfully and ended bluntly.

Some of the nobles had already been nodding along as he relayed the bond of combat and service, and 'Dopple-Caspond' knew quite well that those were the nobles who had actually served in combat along with soldiers, he made mental notes to remember their names...and when he mentioned the prospect of dealing with the undead directly, other nobles joined in the head nodding...Dopple-Caspond made doubly sure to note their names, they were the ones who had not fought, or who were more fearful and cowardly.

"Had the previous four nobles of the previous three reconstruction efforts not failed to produce more than the world's largest shanty town when I extended them the resources our people provided, I might be more tolerant now, however that is what happened, and if we're to seek foreign support, I will not have the next effort offer an invitation to a foreign power to occupy us to recoup their investment. Neia will be put in command of this project, and she will have the full support of the nobility, or the nobility can explain their failure to produce results to the undead who personally slew a demon emperor!" He snarled out and slammed his fist on the throne as his voice rose in anger, and the nobility grew silent at his rebuke. No more objections were to follow.

Neia remembered the King's eloquence in winning them over and thought to herself...'He might not be his majesty, Ainz Ooal Gown...but he's nobody's fool.' And so, the task had become hers, and she set to it with vigor. She made sure she wore the Grand King Busar's armor and continued to practice with and carry the bow Ainz had given to her, and she did so daily, publicly at the behest of her followers who wanted her to show off her strength to the people before each day began. Few people were able to handle such a heavy draw, so when she did so easily and repeatedly it shamed the weak into becoming strong while also earning the respect of those who already had strength of their own, her tireless displays of effort in every task she was set to, became an inspiration to be emulated and a standard was set that nobody wanted to be seen as falling short of meeting.

The target she aimed at was demolished in the center with her final shot, into which she had intentionally placed a small amount of magic power for good measure...it was a talent she'd developed over time since the Sorcerer King had granted her a necklace that she'd used to heal herself once before...now she felt sure she had enough within herself to heal several times, or to put extra power into her limbs or to her shots. Though she was nowhere near the strength of Adamantite adventurers...or their peers like Remedios, she felt sure she could at least resist for a short time, and could fight on par with others that in the past could have finished her easily. Combined with her archery and her powerful equipment, and she made a visible force to be reckoned with.

What Neia did not know, was that aside from her magic improvement and her overall skills, she had become an incredibly gifted orator and she had developed a powerful presence and the ability to draw attention, respect, or fear, to her from individuals great and small. She did know that her fearsome eyes had ceased to be a burden and had instead become a boon, though she still hid them until her gaze would yield the greatest effect. From this, her 'Cult of Ainz' had blossomed, and spread rapidly among the workers rebuilding the capital.

She walked away from her utterly demolished target to the waiting group of men and women, there were maybe a hundred of them and the number was growing. They were what amounted to her lieutenants, they would carry her orders for distribution and labor priorities and food distribution and so on for the day, and she would go about the business of handling supervisory tasks.

"Thank you for coming," she said to them all, easily loud enough for all to hear as she stepped up a series of stones on a broken wall and looked out over them, "as you know, we've received another cache of supplies from the Sorcerer King," she paused as a cheer went up at the mention of their savior, "but now we must put those supplies to good use!" She said loudly, "The aqueducts must be repaired so that the city has intact water again, this will reduce the number of people gone for extended periods going to gather water from the rivers, and it will reduce the overcrowding at the few wells that remain intact. We are past the worst of the winter months, but that does not mean we should skip shelters, so we will randomly draw lots for the block to be rebuilt. Small teams will assist with that, but after the midday meal, if you have people finished with their tasks, set them to others, furthermore, we must remain in communication so that supplies for building can be cycled at need. Do I have any questions and concerns?"

One of them raised their hand, a rough looking man with a very scraggly beard and shabby clothes, but also having powerful seeming hands, the sort hardened from much manual labor, and the muscles of his arms and torso appeared to back up the story told by his meaty fists...from where she stood, he was clearly never a captive of the demihumans. "Yes," she said, "state your name and your issue?"

"I'm Gascon, a blacksmith and I've also been helping with food and building distribution...I've been seeing supply discrepancies between what is supposed to be delivered on paper, and what is actually delivered in fact. To put it bluntly...we're being shorted. The last three shipments have had less weight of food, fewer ingots, and lower amounts of building stone and other tools. Is the Sorcerer King losing faith in us...is he cutting our aid?"

Neia removed her visor, and her gaze chilled the crowd. "I can say with absolute certainty that his majesty would never stoop to so petty a tactic, but even if I did not know that, I was personally present at the shipment point and saw the inventory tally done, everything he said was given to us, was in fact delivered. I don't know what has happened, but I WILL be finding out." Her skill at arms might not have been adamantite, but her voice was.

"After working hours over dinner, I will be delivering another message to the people, invite all you wish, and I will tell you all of the lessons of strength I learned from the Sorcerer King. Tomorrow is a sacred day, so work will be minimal, and we will celebrate it properly."

"What makes it sacred?" Someone asked from the crowd.

"It is the anniversary of the founding of the Sorcerous Kingdom...if they did not exist, we would not be here, so it is proper that we celebrate their founding." She said with pride and enthusiasm.

"How will we celebrate it?" Someone else asked.

"We will show our justice by showing our strength. We fought to free our nation, and we did so with the help of the strongest god of them all, his strength was justice, and his justice was strength, so that we are never threatened again, and never a burden again, we too must grow strong, and celebrate strength and justice of our own making." She said loudly, so loud that others away from the crowd heard, and silently decided for themselves to visit one of the talks of Neia Baraja.

"Dismissed!" She shouted, and the crowd dispersed.

Neia had not been joking about getting to the bottom of the inventory discrepancy, and she swiftly went to the supply dump to inspect the materials, the guard let her by without question, there was nobody who did not know her now.

She began by personally counting the ingots...and came up missing five percent of the iron, gold, silver, and other metals...then she counted the building stone, again she came up missing a number of pallets of blocks...then she checked the food...and found that not only was the measuring cup used to fill sacks smaller than the one she had ordered to be used...the sacks provided by the nobles were smaller than what she had ordered be brought to distribute, and the prepacked sacks that had been sent, which were the proper size, had obviously been opened and were partially empty. All the resources she knew had been fully tallied...were now fewer or lighter than they should have been.

That settled it...someone was stealing, embezzling from the supplies for their own benefit. She glared at the supplies, as if waiting for them to speak for themselves and say that she was wrong...but they sat, silent and accusing.

She went outside to where the guard stood, and she looked at him through her visor, "Who has been coming here?" He looked back, confused. "You are a regular guard of this post, yes?" She asked, and he nodded. "Who has been coming here?" She removed her visor as she spoke and glared at him. "The supplies are light, materials are missing, they did not wander off on their own unless bricks and grain sacks and pallets of wood can grow legs!" She said with anger and scathing sarcasm filling her voice. "So, I ask you again...who...has been...coming here? Either I have an answer now, or you'll be answering to King Caspond and the Sorcerer King later..." ...He started to shake as soon as he saw her eyes, but when she mentioned the Sorcerer King, he reacted suddenly and tried to bring his halberd to bear against her, striving to cleave her from the joining of shoulder to neck, down to the center of her torso in his sudden panic.

However before the clinking of his metal armor had finished sounding, and before his halberd had come halfway to where it would send the life fleeing from her body, she had already begun to move. She drew an arrow from her quiver, not to shoot, no she grabbed it as one might the handle of a dagger and thrust it home into his neck. The halberd dropped from nerveless fingers over which he had no more control, his body shook and trembled as if to shake off the useless flesh from his liberated soul, and then he fell to his knees before Neia Baraja as if to plead for a mercy that the corrupt did not deserve, and would not receive. Then backwards he fell and moved no more.

As he was dropping to the ground and, fountaining blood, she spoke in a voice filled with contempt and loathing. "The dogs of the nobles who sit in pampered homes and never face real battle...should never try to fight against those for whom death dealing has been a way of life. Foolish man..." She spat on his face just before his eyes closed and the last vestiges of living vanished from his form. She had a grim certainty that while he might have been stealing, he was only a lackey.

Neia was no stranger to death, she had killed people before, humans, bandits chiefly, the occasional murderer gone into the woods to avoid justice. They got an arrow between the shoulder blades for their trouble, yet never before had she counted it as part of her character to take life, simply a necessity that had to be done on occasion. Yet as she looked down, breathing hard from the fading rush of energy that danger gave to her, and looked at the corpse, she considered that the invasion of Jaldabaoth had left its mark on her. A part of her had died in the year of war and the subsequent years of privation that followed the hollow victory. She remained hopeful for the future, but the dulled edge of the childish squire who set out to follow in the footsteps of her mother, had been gradually honed to that of a fine razor, one sharpened not against a stone, but against the constant drops of blood that rained over her in times past, shaping her present to who she had now become. A hardened veteran of unfailing will.

She shook herself out of her reverie and called for someone to come over to her, and a moment later a person passed around the corner in response to her voice and paled when they saw the deadly looking Neia standing over the body of the sentry. "Go and fetch another guard, this one was…unworthy." She said grimly.

"Do you live or work around here?" She asked.

The man nodded numbly.

"Do you know who this one man was, or who he worked for?" She asked. The person nodded, "I know him, he's Negab, he works for Lord Baltrom..."

"Go get a guard who works for a different noble, this man has been stealing." She glared at the corpse while still speaking to the passerby. "He won't steal anymore, but Lord Baltrom will have to answer for his man."

The stunned fellow ran off as Neia began to search belongings of the dead man, and in the pocket, she found a list of items and amounts...she was quite certain that these were things that were meant to be stolen later.

She sighed, "I've got a real problem on my hands now..." She said to herself, almost missing the days when her problems were solved by shooting something with an arrow.


	2. Black Justice is Born

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neia exposes a theft and demonstrates how...unwise, it is to cross an adherent of the Sorcerer King's ways. Her reputation, already considerable, grows within the capital and her following continues to expand.

She quietly put the list away while she awaited a replacement guard and contemplated what to do. As she thought, she came to a realization.

"The question is not what 'I' would do, but rather what would the Sorcerer King do for the sake of his justice." She thought back to his grim choices, executing hostages that demihumans attempted to use against him and his allies, making carefully considering when to fight and when not to fight so that he maximized his power and minimized losses. Trying to do everything would accomplish nothing, trying to save everyone would in the end save no one.

"I don't have his magic, I don't have his resources...but I do have my eyes, my reputation, and my position. I need to exploit them all to maximize the impact on others." She said to herself. Then she took out her sword, lifted the head of the fallen criminal, and removed it from his neck. In a distant sort of way, she reflected that there was a time when she never would have considered doing something like this. She shrugged it off, she was younger back then, more naïve, more idealistic. Jaldabaoth ensured she became otherwise.

She then took the dead man's halberd, and stuck the head on the sharp iron tip, then jammed the butt of it into the ground. She stripped the corpse of its armor and etched the word's 'Caught stealing the Kingdom's supplies' on the breastplate. After that, she secured his body upright using his own belt against the pole of the halberd so that all would see and know that theft would not go unpunished.

She wiped her brow and walked thirty paces from the corpse, then turning to it, she began to fill it with arrows, including two in the eyes. This was the state 'they' were in when the replacement arrived...along with two other men...the noble who had provided the dead man, and the noble who was supplying the replacement.

They stopped and looked at the horror of the scene, and the casual way Neia inflicted injury upon the corpse. Before they said anything, she turned her merciless gaze on them, her eyes were always like daggers, but now they were like daggers in a demon's skull. The nobles and the replacement began to sweat and lost the ability to speak.

Seeing their silence, Neia spoke first.

"He was a thief. I exposed him. He tried to kill me for it. He turned out to be even worse at murder than he was at stealing. Now he is a corpse, and he has another duty, which is to serve as an example to others who would consider stealing from our people, I think he will do very well at this job. Don't you? She asked, she used short, clipped and abrupt speech very different from her usual method, and it rattled them almost as much as the dead man did. When she'd finished her last sentence, she gave them a smile that could almost be considered 'warm' a stark and horrifying contrast to the scene that was now at her back

She pointed with her bow to the dead man behind her. "This is my justice, the justice of the strong. His weakness was his fear, and his corruption, and in his sin, he brought about his own death. Questions?" She asked.

The replacement looked down and shook his head, the nobles did the same, and it was as if there were a competition to determine who had turned paler than his fellows. She had a distinct feeling this was not as over as it looked to be, but she was quite sure that the replacement guard would NOT be partaking in any theft.

"Um...Lady Neia..." the guard said, adding an honorific she had never had before, "should I take him down...?"

"NO." Her fierce answer shocked even herself, and the guard nodded. "I said he has a job to do, and he does. What remains of him can be removed when his body rots enough to fall on its own, then have a priest bless his corpse so he doesn't earn the honor of coming back as an undead like his majesty, only after that will we throw his corpse in an unmarked hole in a field somewhere. Until then, let him feed the crows for now, and the crops later."

The noble who provided the replacement looked at the man, and shook his head slightly, and the one who had supplied the thief began to tremble.

"One more thing," she said, and they listened with extreme care, as behind her back a crow came to light on the head decorating the pike and picked at the flesh. "put it about that I'll be looking for the missing supplies, and the person he provided them to, but that I'll stop looking if the supplies are returned to this place in forty-eight hours. If they're not, that thing will earn a companion." She pointed to the corpse and walked away.

The day's work proceeded apace, and that evening Neia stood in front of a large gathering, larger than the previous one, as each one had been, the one that followed was always bigger than the one before, and she found herself enjoying the growth of her message.

"To be a god is to have the power to create justice, if we are to emulate our god and obtain the power to create justice then we cannot abide weakness in ourselves or in our nation, if weakness bars justice, then weakness itself is a sin against justice! Our sin lead to our suffering, and the strength of the Sorcerer King was the justice of the world that saved us in our time of sin. But even the most graceful god may have limits to their kindness, and if we embrace our weakness of the past again, if we sin again, then one day a new Jaldabaoth may come to us, or a new invasion of demihumans, and our children will suffer for our sins!" She walked about the stage, as if carrying her words to them all, her arms were open and out before the crowd as if to invite them to embrace her as their sister, and the crowd responded with enthusiasm as her words reached their ears.

"Will we let that happen?!" She asked passionately.

"NO!"

"NO!"

"NO!"

The crowd replied in three successive cries.

"The justice of the Sorcerer King is the only justice there is, and it is the only one that matters, yet even were there another, for what other justice saved you from starvation? From torture? From being eaten like cattle?! Did anyone?! Did the justice of our beloved Queen save you? Was it even the gods we prayed to for all our lives, who received the devotion of our ancestors for so many generations? Did they save us?! Or was it a foreign king of unimaginable might who put his justice on the line for our lives?!"

"The Sorcerer King! The Sorcerer King! The Sorcerer King!" The cries rang out again.

"Then if he is not a god by doing what the gods could not and did not do, what the queen could not achieve, what our people could not achieve...if his justice is not the justice of a god, if his strength is not the strength of a god, which is to create and define justice...then tell me what is? What other gods are there to which we can compare him and say, 'they are greater than he'?"

Nobody had an answer, silence fell.

She nodded firmly, "You all know what transpired today by now, a guard, a man trusted by our lords to serve and protect our interests, robbed our supplies, and would have stolen more had I not caught him, and tried to kill me when I confronted him. What were his sins, what was his weakness?!"

"Cowardice!"

"Greed!"

"Selfishness!"

"Corruption!"

The crowd rattled off his sins as weaknesses until they could think of no more and the din died down.

"I killed him, I beheaded him, I placed his head upon his halberd, marked his corpse, and decreed his fate to rot as a dishonored pile of meat! I declared that the missing supplies should be returned, or I would hunt for them till I found the guilty to whom the stolen materials were given and made them to join their cohort in crime. Was I just?!"

"YES! YES! YES!" the crowd was in a frenzy.

The speech went on as she lauded the virtues of the Sorcerer King, and told stories of his exploits as their savior, until a lit candle nearby burned down and went out.

"Now we have had our talk, and I tell you we must expiate the weakness from ourselves, and our greatest weakness, was weakness, and so we train, and tomorrow we show our growth, and we will grow stronger, we will repay our debt to our savior by making sure we do not need to be saved again!" She shouted.

The training was brief as the hour was late, but she could see that the daily routine of training was paying off, the men and women who followed her were getting stronger, a few had even learned martial arts, and guards who had been eyeing her doubtfully, were trickling in and joining her cause.

The next day, Gascon did inventory, and then reported to Neia that he found a pile of supplies out front of the supply dump, everything had been returned, including a little extra for good measure.

Neia's reputation for harsh and unflinching justice…and savage reprisal for crossing her people had begun to spread like wildfire.

Back in the Sorcerer Kingdom, Demiurge watched those events unfold, alongside Albedo.

"I am truly impressed with our master's ability, look at what he has done with an ordinary human. Not only has she grown more powerful, but he has won her over as a convert, and an influential one at that. Now she is the first human to recognize Lord Ainz as the god he truly is."

Albedo nodded, "She is an interesting one, I truly believe that if he ordered her to die, she would obey him as readily as we would if the order were given to us. Perhaps in her...we are seeing the truth our master did, the worth of humans who know the glory of the ruler of the forty-one."

Demiurge raised an eyebrow, "You may be right, her speech suggested it, and I doubt I could have written a better one for her if I tried, should we put her to the test and see how she responds?"

"What did you have in mind?" Albedo asked.

"Only what she would eventually face anyway, killing that guard was good, even if she was relatively merciful compared to me, but this was going to raise the ire of the nobles even as it intimidated them, I'll just increase their anger and reduce their fear a little early." Demiurge replied with the smile of a first rate devil.

"How will you do that?" Albedo asked curiously.

"I will have a minion whispering temptations into their ears as they sleep, influencing the direction of their thoughts, and driving them to greater anger." Demiurge replied with a satisfied smile as he pondered the events to come.

"A good idea, surely my beloved Ainz foresaw this, and if it speeds up his plans, so much the better, but let us also have her watched and make sure she is protected, we do not want to accidentally get her killed." Albedo suggested.

"Agreed." Demiurge said and departed to work his will.

When Neia began the holy day by learning of the return of supplies to their proper place, she was pleased with herself and her choices, and she idly hoped her idol, Ainz Ooal Gown, would approve of her measures.

This day was left to minimal manning for necessary tasks, while the rest of the workers under her celebrated the founding of the Sorcerer Kingdom, it left some citizens, usually nobles and priests feeling somewhat dubious, but she was too significant a figure, with ties too important to risk offending, and so they let it pass.

Well...almost all of them let it pass. Remedios Custodio was as loud as one might expect, she demanded Neia's arrest for killing the guard, only to be shot down, and when the workers took the day off to celebrate the founding of a foreign kingdom, she demanded they all be tried for treason. The return of the stolen supplies did little to ease her anger, and the King was no help.

"While it is somewhat awkward, she is our tie to the only source of materials to rebuild, if you have another option, present it, otherwise...shut up." The King said in no uncertain terms.

The nobles however, listened to Remedios more readily, and so too did the priests of the six gods.

Among the nobles, anger began to stir at the jumped up squire who had killed a noble's man without hesitation.

From the start of the war, to the departure of the Sorcerer King, and after, Neia had been developing her combat skills, and gradually she had begun to form her own martial style, which blended archery, one handed sword work, and one handed strikes along with point of impact magic applications. But not until that day did it have a name.

When celebrating the founding of the Sorcerer King with ritual combat, it was seen in earnest, she used her bow with blunted arrows and brought down several guards who had joined her group, and rushed in at high speed, struck several more with her blunted training sword, and used her free hand to engage in grips that through men off balance and struck them at their weak points. A paladin saw what she did and approached her gingerly.

"What...was that..." He asked her, "I've never seen a fighting style like yours before, usually one handed sword users use a shield, archers stay back, and brawlers use none of those, but you have taken pieces of all three."

Neia thought for a moment, buying time by drinking water from a canteen, and then said, "I call the style 'Black Justice'. Strength after all, is justice, and by taking the strengths of three and combining it into one, I have the flexibility to attack multiple weaknesses."

"Impressive..." The paladin said.

And in Nazarik, an observing Cocytus, echoed the sentiment.

He looked to the iron butler of Nazarik standing beside him and said, "She has a warrior spirit, admirable in the weak that she could create something that effective, perhaps we should send her help to further develop this, perhaps we should even consider adopting it among our soldiers and allies who are fit for it."

Sebas stroked his beard, "You may be right, but before we lend her assistance, we should seek Lord Ainz's approval, he may wish to see what more she will develop before supporting her."

Cocytus nodded, "I will present the suggestion to him today."

When the paladin walked away, Neia went about her company of volunteers and critiqued their methods, it was a good day, everyone seemed a little stronger than the day before, and they all returned to work the following morning with spirits renewed.

Those spirits held for several days, until Gascon didn't show up for his shift, and he was found beaten to death and beheaded in an alley.

However...nobody had touched the rotting corpse of the thieving guard, except for the crows that picked at his flesh, and all the supplies remained intact.


	3. Blood Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neia seeks out the guilty and gives them a lesson in the Sorcerer King's justice before the dead are mourned, under the watchful eye of a curious and intrigued Nazarick.

God Rising

Chapter 3

When the body was found, Neia was immediately given word and in turn she gave orders. "Prepare a litter, and carry him on your shoulders, he is one of ours, we will hold a service for him tonight. Have his body preserved until then." Her men nodded in unison. "Was anything found with him?" She asked gravely.

One of the men, Gilcrest, a man she knew as Gascon's apprentice, answered. "Yes, Lady Neia. There were three bodies nearby, and copious amounts of blood. All dressed in brown cloaks and high boots, and all of them missing heads."

Neia looked down in contemplation as she thought of the implications of this information. "I see...Gascon killed three of his attackers, and probably injured several more, so they took the heads of their comrades so that they couldn't be identified, but...they made a mistake."

"My lady?" Gilcrest asked.

Neia looked Gilcrest over, appraising him before giving her answer. He was tall, a young man in the flower of youth. His hands were marked with a handful of small scars from his work as an apprentice, not covered in them as Gascon's were…but it was a beginning. His body was broad shouldered and his muscles were as thick and strong as the iron he bent to his will, but his face was fresh, freckled, almost childlike except for his piercing brown eyes that were sit below a half kempt mop of sandy hair, he appeared to be an innocent but sincere sort of man, so she answered with patience despite the urgent feeling in her gut. "They didn't kill their own wounded, and they didn't have healing potions." She said, a smug and vicious smile appearing on her face as the means to outsmart and catch the ones responsible began to form inside her mind.

"I don't understand...how..." Gilcrest began.

"Simple, if they'd had healing potions they could have healed themselves and then removed the bodies on their own, instead they left them where they fell and only took the heads, that means they were all wounded, and severely enough that moving the bodies was too much, they had to make a break for it quickly and restore themselves elsewhere, that means we have to ask around for a group of wounded men being seen, and because the three bodies were dressed alike, we can safely guess that the remaining group was dressed alike as well. Ask some of the guards from our number to handle the investigation. I will have to report the murder to the captain of the guard, but we should be able to handle the rest ourselves. Now go, follow my instructions, and we'll set this right." As she spoke, she ticked off the relevant points on one hand, and Gilcrest's eyes grew wide as he realized the extent to which Neia Baraja had thought things through.

They parted ways, and Neia took off her visor for the walk back, she wanted to go to her office, but instead she sent a message to the captain of the guard to meet her at the aqueduct's central distribution node.

An hour or so later, they were together, what had been a ruin, now stood strong, Neia watched as workers finished the last of the pipes, weeks of work had gone into this, and now the city at last had water enough for everyone, the long aqueduct passed beyond the city, clear to the mountains where massive slopes caught and directed melting snow and gave water to the entirety of the capitol.

During the war it had been ruined by hateful demihumans, which in turn meant that when she took over, the water shortage had been the first crisis Neia had begun to tackle. Completing this freed up several thousand laborers to be put to public works and rebuilding homes, and tonight she'd intended to christen it in a ceremony. It was meant to be joyous, but now with the death of Gascon, who had made so many parts for it over so many hours...it was going to be a sad affair.

The captain stood beside Neia and looked at it all, and they listened together as the cheers rang out when someone turned a tap and water poured out. From here fountains and distribution nodes would run again and nobody would be thirsty, but that wasn't what they were thinking of right now. "Have you heard, Captain Robel?" Neia asked the captain of the guard.

"I did. I heard on my way over actually, I passed some of your men carrying his body, and dragging the corpses of the assailants they'd found." Robel answered in a grim voice, still looking over the aqueduct.

"You know some of your guards are my followers?" She asked.

"Most of them actually, if you didn't already know that." Robel answered, he laughed a little at that, his lean muscled frame was like that of a born sprinter, and his dark hair and piercing, ice blue eyes danced in his look. He shrugged, revealing the deep tan of a man on his exposed skin that revealed that he spent much time outdoors, to Neia's view, that spoke well of his commitment to be more than a behind the scenes leader. "You've done a lot for this city" he said as a serious expression came over his face,

"half the guards here were prisoners at one point, and the first thing they saw when they were liberated were you and the Sorcerer King. Some of them suffered badly, so between their gratitude to both of you, your hard work, and your incorruptibility...they're now more your men than they are mine." He said a bit stiffly, as though it hurt to admit.

"That doesn't bother you?" She asked, a little surprise in her voice as she failed to find any bitterness or vitriol in his own.

"It does...but not as much as it should, I was never much for the gods, and though I loved our Queen like everybody else, she's gone. I just want everything to be made as right as it can be again. You're helping to make that happen, I may not follow you directly, my position doesn't allow for that, but I'm not about to get in your way, and even if I wanted to...I doubt I could." He answered.

"So, you'll let the guards who follow me, handle the investigation?" She asked.

"Yes." He answered, "However this isn't without a price."

"What price?" She replied with a somewhat wary voice.

"First, you keep me informed. Second, any you take alive, you hand over for trial under the law. And third..." He began to say...

"And third?" She prompted, now more curious than anxious about what terms she might face.

"You try not to take any of them alive and make it hurt while you finish things. I grew up with Gascon, so this is personal as much as it is professional." He said with a grim rage in his voice.

Neia removed her glove and stuck out her hand. "Deal. I'll meet your price."

Robel reached out to shake it, and winced at the power of her grip, and walked away, leaving Neia alone.

The soldiers turned city guards were led by a man named Hob, and he was not subtle about the investigation, having applied a little martial arts strength to the arm twisting in the course of asking questions, and before long they found an innkeeper who remembered four men carrying bags, wearing brown clothing and high boots, who limped in the night before. Hob towered a full foot over the innkeeper, and carried a large maul over his shoulder, "Let me see their rooms." He said.

The innkeeper, a somewhat portly man with an apparent tendency to sweat, began to wring his hands as he spoke and stuttered out..."T-t-they had but one room for the lot of them, but I will show you good master." He said, and hurried up the stairs. He took out a set of keys and fumbled with them for a moment, before finding the right one and opening the door. He stepped aside and curled his arms so that his hands pointed into the room. "This is the one sirs...will there be anything else?" His voice said he very much hoped there wouldn't be.

Hob didn't bother to answer, he went through the room with his men, lifting covers, searching through drawers, until one of his men shouted, "I found something!" And held up a piece of paper.

"What is it?" Hob asked, his deep voice clearly on edge.

"It's a set of instructions on Gascon's usual route, and the paper is magically created, first of all, not many people can afford that these days, and not many people can make it even if it could be paid for. So that means it was a priest, a noble, or a wealthy merchant who ordered the strike." The guard's smile turned predatory. "Weren't the men injured sir? Where would you go if you were badly injured and carrying around some severed heads?"

Hob's face turned equally predatory, "They'd have to get rid of the heads first, in such a way that they're not going to accidentally be found before being reduced to skulls...and then they'd have to go for healing, and with potions being short, and only one temple rebuilt, there is only one place to go."

"Innkeeper!" He snapped at the withdrawing portly fellow, "Yes sir..." The innkeeper replied, "How long ago did these men leave their rooms?"

The innkeeper thought for a moment, "They left an hour ago, give or take a little time."

Hob nodded, "That isn't much of a head start. The Temple isn't close to here, and they have to get rid of the heads, the only place to be sure that they won't be found is by throwing them into the waste zone beyond the city, we probably can't catch them there, but the temple is close to Lady Neia's office."

Hob swiftly sent a message to Neia conveying his information. "Very good Hob," Neia answered, "I will rush to the temple and tell the priest to take an early lunch, these men thought themselves clever, they'll not be expecting a reception, get to the temple as fast as you can, but don't enter, fan out around it, and don't make it obvious that you're guards or soldiers, they may get past my 'welcome' for them."

She didn't wait for a response, but she grabbed several of the best available followers, those who had been learning her style of combat, and like her, they were never far from their weapons. They followed her quickly to the temple and were right behind her as she entered. The head priest initially reacted with shock and began to sputter instructions about not bearing weapons into the house of a god, but Neia's eyes shut him up. "Listen to me, several killers are on their way to the temple, they're the survivors of a group of people who killed one of my followers, they're injured to one degree or another, and will seek your assistance, I want you to be "out to lunch" right now, and keep them waiting for about an hour until some of my other people arrive, we'll take it from there."

"Should I not heal them then?" The priest said in a shaky and uncertain voice.

"Actually," she said as she removed her visor and met his eyes with hers, "I want you to heal them entirely. They're going to get hurt all over again, and I don't want them handicapped before that." Neia said bluntly and caressed the bow she held in her hand, the gentle touch she used was almost like a lover's caress, and the look in her eyes chilled the priest down to his bones. A shadow lurked in her gaze, dark and savage, but at the same time shining as if the night and day had united as one, like black pearls...they were beautiful and terrible to look at on a person's face. He nodded numbly, unable to refuse her, and as she left with her escort, the priest went to the nearest alter to pray for the passing of the fear that swept over him.

Neia took her people back out of the temple and had them station themselves at various intervals around the entrance, appearing to be no more than casual bystanders. Neia, being far too recognizable now, hid back within the temple and waited. Eventually just as she expected, a group of five men, limping or clutching injured stomachs, shoulders, and in one case missing a hand, entered the temple. An attendant brought them in and told them the priest at his prayers, but he would be returning soon. The men grumbled, but they could do nothing but wait, since none of them were in any immediate danger of dying.

Neia took the chance to poke her head out and look at them, She recognized only one...a man she'd seen in the service of the same noble who had provided the corrupt guard in the first place, it was unlikely to be a coincidence as far as she was concerned. She examined their gear, their boots were of good quality, and the sheaths of long swords protruded from their cloaks. They were not common thieves, those carried daggers that were easily concealed. None of them carried bows, and she could see that they were wearing chainmail armor...good quality too, they were obviously a nobleman's house troops, and given who she recognized, they almost certainly all served the same man. Some twenty minutes later, she got a message saying that Hob and his men had arrived and spaced themselves out accordingly, and it was just then that the elderly priest arrived, took their coin, and healed their wounds with one of his spells, the men began to walk out, almost at a strut, confident that their day was going very well, unaware it had in fact been getting steadily worse, and it was only going to continue to go down hill with every passing moment.

When they were at the base of the steps, Neia walked out from behind the door and looked down at them. "I've been waiting for you!" She said loudly. They froze. "We all have." The first group of her people made themselves known and stepped into a semicircle formation.

"What are you..." Began the large fellow she recognized.

"Save it." She interrupted, you killed Gascon, don't even try to deny it, I tracked you here, as did my people, so obviously we know exactly what happened, you were far too sloppy, no matter how clever you thought you were. Now one of two things is going to happen, you are either going to surrender and tell me who gave you the order...or you're going to suffer and die, personally I hope you do the second one, I think I already know who is pulling your strings."

"I'll tell you nothing, you jumped up pissant squire." The large man said, setting the tone by drawing his sword, a motion echoed by his companions. His gesture froze when Neia removed her visor and the shadow of her gaze fell on him.

Neia shrugged and put her visor away, "Fine by me. Take them down!" Her bow snapped out and she'd launched two arrows before they could react, her people were not much slower, firing one of their own each before they did the unexpected and charged in with swords out. Three of the five were hit, one in the gut, and two took arrows in their knees before swords came down, the house guards had always considered themselves to be skilled, but the Black Justice style of combat was wholly unfamiliar and the combination of savage martially enhanced blows, swift darting sword work, and the contrast of arrows fired at close range, put them down without allowing them to inflict a single injury.

Three of the five were dead, one looked like he would be soon, the last, the one she knew by sight, was still breathing from his position on his back, he snarled up at her between his grimace of pain, and she put her boot to his face in a swift kick, knocking out several teeth. "Congratulations, you get to die by hanging instead of by the hand of Neia Baraja, squire of the Sorcerer King, your death, such as it will be, is going to be less painful as a result. But first, I want answers. Who gave you your order to kill Gascon?"

He spat out his teeth and tried to glare at her, but her piercing eyes made him shrink under her, and he looked away. "Fuck off, I'm dead anyway."

"Do you want to die blind?" She asked.

He paled.

"You saw the...example, I made a few days ago. He was lucky, he was already dead when I did that. I only promised to hand you over to Robel, I didn't promise you'd be able to see when I did so." She knelt over him and grabbed his jaw with her thumb and forefinger and forced his eyes to hers. "I follow his majesty's justice, which is to save all that you can, and do what must be done, knowing that you cannot save all. If I can spare your vision, I will, but if removing your eyes gives me your knowledge, it will be done. So…will I be the last thing you ever see…or not?" She asked and took an arrow from her quiver with her free hand. She held it up in front of him, letting him see it for himself, then she put it to the corner of one eye.

"The count...it was the count!" He gasped out, Neia nodded, she had confirmation of what she already knew. She put her arrow away and took out her sword again, then she struck the bastard once on the head, and he was unconscious. A short message to Captain Robel later, and the official city guard had arrived and taken custody of the lone survivor. "It was Count Handor." He said, "He supplied the corrupt guard, these are his men, they killed Gascon in an act of revenge when their courage was bucked up a bit, they probably chose him because he was the one who noticed the missing supplies. If I'd been wiser, I'd have expected that, I'd have had Gascon guarded..." Neia said, looking down sadly.

"You didn't know this would happen, it's not your fault, so don't take so much blame on yourself, this is how the world is sometimes." Robel said with a regretful shake of his head. "We'll still need the official confession, but we'll wring that out of him, and we'll take care of the rest of the bodies. What about your wounded, do they need help?" Robel said.

"We have no wounded." Neia said with some pride. "Remember even a simple blacksmith of ours managed to kill several of his attackers and wound the remainder, had he been properly armed, and not outnumbered, he might still be here." Robel's eyes widened.

They parted ways, and those who had gathered to observe the brief disturbance, did not bar the way.

That evening, Neia spoke to those who had gathered, a crowd even larger than before, considerably so, as word had spread of her taking down an 'elite noble's guards who had been caught after murdering a peasant.' Or so the story went about, however incomplete, it was enough to electrify the common people.

Neia lit a candle and laid it on a stone beside her, and began to speak, "There are two reasons we are gathered here together...the first, is to congratulate you all. The aqueduct has been restored! There is enough water for all, from the smallest babe in the poorest house, to the wealthy nobles in their palaces, to the very dogs in the street. You did this with your strength, you showed that you could recover from the fiercest of blows by the mightiest of demons, you have risen stronger than you were before the coming of Jaldabaoth, you have survived, and you are rebuilding, and the fruits of strength and will applied to the common good, is the definition of justice, and the foundation of a nation's future!" Her voice electrified the crowd, from those whose lives were marred by torture, captivity, and privation...to even the merchants who had been able to escape and continue to live well as the war went on, the tingle of her passionate voice ran up and down their spines.

"Well done!" she said. And the cheers deafened the city.

Her hands went up to still them, and the cheers began to fade, and when silence reigned again she motioned with her hand, and Hod, along with other soldiers, bore the body of Gascon up before them all, and laid him upon a pyre of wood, and removing the cloak that covered him, she said, "The second reason we have come here is to mourn one of our own. Gascon the blacksmith. It was he who first, through his diligence, noticed the missing supplies, noticed that the very bread our children eat, was being taken away by greed, selfishness, and corruption. It was he also, who became the target of this evil. He killed three of them with his own hands, his strength that protected you, did great harm to those who have tried to harm you. But he was unarmed, he was unarmored, and he was outnumbered, such was the strength of a single common man that experienced household guards of a noble feared to take him on without great numbers; and almost half of them died anyway, what is more, none of the remainder walked away without his marks deep upon their bodies. His strength did not save his life, but it did give us the means to find his killers, and to bring them down in turn!"

She turned and touched the body of the powerful looking blacksmith, placing her hand over his forever still heart she said, "Thus, at peace, go to your reward as we commit your body to the flames, bright as the spark of your life, and to our memory, where you will always be an example, proof that greatness knows no station." Her fist rose up as she cast a torch onto the pyre where his body lay, and the flames rose high behind her as she shouted, "Hail Gascon! Hail Gascon! Hail Gascon!"

"Hail Gascon! Hail Gascon! Hail Gascon!" The crowd chanted, and then another trio of voices picked began together, Hod, Gilcrest, and Robel, "Hail Neia! Hail Neia! Hail Neia! And Hail the justice of the Sorcerer King!" Fists rose and fell in time with the chanting, so loud did the crowd grow, that far off, in the palaces of nobles and the royal hall of King Caspond...they heard every resounding chorus. And in one of those halls, Remedios Custodio burned with fury. A fury that was being stoked by a corrupt count, while in the dungeons below, a dagger pierced the heart of his own man, and silenced him forever before his voice could be raised to accuse the count of his corruption.

Back in Nazarick, Albedo looked at Demiurge and said, "Did you have that man killed, or was that the count?"

Demiurge laughed, "Oh, it was the count, however with a little manipulation on my part, to give that coward courage, our master's tool will find herself sorely tried in the days ahead. I wonder how she'll do?"


	4. Change and Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neia is given an offer she can't refuse, and wouldn't if she could, trials and troubles are plentiful, but she must rise to the challenge...and with the backing of the god of justice, Ainz Ooal Gown, she just may.

Neia woke up the next morning before the Sun rose, and as usual she began her day by combat training, first with the sword and fist combination that she had begun to work out in the development of the Black Justice combat system, and then with the bow, and through both she imbued her body with magic to enhance the force of her strikes… however… she never enhanced their accuracy, she left that to her natural senses so that she would never be dependent upon magic, this set her apart from the few archers who could use some form of magical martial arts, they tended to focus on accuracy, but Neia had concluded that this was a weakness. An archer dependent on something other than their body for aim, wasn't an archer, they were a tool of the bow, rather than the bow being a tool of the archer, and as an unexpected benefit, she found that she was able to engage in combat for longer and longer periods, conserving her limited supply of mana.

Also as usual, some few of her more dedicated followers began to trickle in to train with her, first independently, then pairing up, among them, much to her surprise, was Robel. It was surprising enough that she stopped what she was doing and went to speak with him.

"Captain Robel… you're here… and... not in uniform." She said, it was stated as a fact, but in truth it was a question, one he obliged to answer.

"Yes," he said, "I went in for my morning shift and the prisoner was dead and I was removed from my position." His voice seemed distant, with an undercurrent of anger, he drew out a bow and fired a shot, he didn't even hit the target, his arrow went wide and broke against the stone, before falling to the ground. He snorted, "It's harder than it looks, don't know how you do it."

"But you didn't..." Neia began, then stopped. "Oh, no that wouldn't matter would it, let me guess, the count?"

He nodded. "The count. I suppose you could call it petty revenge for arresting his man in the first place and forcing him to have the man put down. So... now I don't have anywhere else to go, I have my sword, I have my father's hunting bow, for all the good I am with that, so I thought I'd follow you in full. You avenged my friend, and he was your follower, so perhaps I can fill his shoes, and besides, I figure you're going to come up against that count again soon, and I'll trade my body's life for a crack at punishing that bastard when the time comes."

Neia's face went dark, "Your price is met, you're my man now, though I can't promise a crack at the count personally. As you know, bastards like that tend to make a lot of enemies, we might not get to him first, but if I can, I'll let you carve your pound of flesh from him in person."

"That's good enough, the word of Neia Baraja, servant of the Sorcerer King, is as good as gold."

He said, causing Neia to blush slightly at the praise. Perhaps that would have ended the conversation, but there were several more men approaching that Neia did not know, and as she pointed them out to Robel, expecting trouble, he sheathed his sword and said, "What are you doing here?"

"Who are they exactly?" Neia said, leaning in and whispering to him.

"They're members of my company, but why they're here I have no idea." He whispered back, and then approached them.

"We're out of the city guard." One of the men said bluntly as he approached Robel. "They fired you, but we all know damn good and well that the reason you were fired was to punish you, and we know the ones who fired you are the same ones responsible for that whole mess in the first place. We can't take orders from… that. So, we want in on this. What… exactly do you call it?"

It caught Neia off guard… she'd never named her group of followers, even though she'd referred to them as a unique group many times. She paused a moment, and said, "'Black Justice' the same as our combat style, strength is strength, both are the same, even when the strengths vary from sword to bow to book and brain, so we need no other name but that of our combat method." The name and reason seemed to resonate with them all, so she carried on, "Since you're here, I assume you want to learn to fight as we do, you will begin with a few of my cadre of trusted veterans, most of us will be out today working to rebuild the city, but pulling a few away as instructors won't hurt the effort."

The group was amenable to that, and so they stayed and waited on the training ground outside her office and residence for instructors to arrive, and Neia went to the gathering spot for laborers.

"Gilcrest," she said, "you are taking over for Gascon, oversee the making of more parts for various projects. The list of needed items will be provided to you." She said, and then turned to the leaders of the various squads who had come to take her orders. "Squads one through fifty, you will be responsible for residential repair, squads fifty one through sixty you will be circulating supplies, squads sixty one through eighty, you will be distributing food..."

As she spoke, a man rushed over, wearing the uniform of a messenger, Neia stopped speaking, but stayed wary until the man stopped and knelt, "Lady Neia, I come bearing a message from my master, Tinamoc, will you hear it?" Neia froze, she knew that name, everybody who had ever bought anything in the capitol knew that name, he was, before the war, one of the most powerful merchants in the country.

"I will, please speak freely." She replied.

"To Neia Baraja, the founder of Black Justice, the squire of the Sorcerer King, the savior of countless people, the slayer of demihumans, and the incorruptible, I send greetings. I, Tinamoc, chief merchant of the former Holy Queen and the current Holy King, long may he reign, am embarking on a journey ten days hence, round our great nation to rebuild the trade systems to their former glory, and though my body is willing and my mind is able, the road is dangerous still. Therefore to ensure success, I need the finest protection available. To that end, I entreat you and one hundred of your veteran followers to join me, the journey will take three months, and when it is complete, I promise the full support of the merchant's guild will go to Black Justice in your efforts to reestablish trade and to rebuild all the cities, towns, and villages in your charge."

Neia could hardly believe her ears… first she thanked her lucky stars that she'd chosen to name the group after her fighting style when she did, because it seemed others had already confused the combat style for the organization. A happy coincidence that she was not about to announce now. Second, she contemplated the vast wealth being proffered, and the degree to which it could make the lives of countless others easier, and speed up the rebuilding process dramatically. Even with the aid of the Sorcerer King, the nation had to provide its own labor and it needed to build its own economic base… it was a problem she feared in the future, and now before the capitol was even rebuilt, here was her solution. There was, however, a problem, and wasn't there always?

"I can't… I've been put in charge of rebuilding the Capitol, I can't abandon my duty." She said.

"My master has already seen to the problem, he has secured the King's agreement that you are best suited for this mission, and because it is vital, the absence from the current project is tolerable, another will be appointed in your place. You are free to accept this task." The messenger replied.

Neia was conflicted, until Gilcrest approached, and touching her arm, indicated that they should step away for a private conversation. She gestured for the man to wait, and joined Gilcrest, leaning in, she listened, "Go, we can handle things here. Three months isn't bad, and more importantly, you can spread the word of the Sorcerer King during your journey, you can spread the ideals of Black Justice, and gather more to our cause, all while helping the people all over the Holy Kingdom."

Neia's glaring eyes went wide, she nodded and then returned to the messenger.

"I will accept; however, I may need more than ten days. I must select one hundred people, and set all my affairs in order here, choose a replacement, and bring them up to speed. Give me thirty days, and I can depart fully focused on your mission."

The messenger nodded, "I have been empowered by my master to agree to a delay of several weeks on his behalf, your condition is acceptable. He will meet you and your company outside the main city gate in one month, ready to depart."

The messenger stood, bowed, and left, while Neia stood in shock at what had just transpired. She was not allowed to stand for long however, because a messenger wearing the crest of the King appeared shortly thereafter. This one did not bow or kneel, "Lady Neia, you are summoned to present yourself before the King immediately." His message was brief, and it was clearly not negotiable.

"What a day this has been. What else will it bring before I can even eat my meal?" She thought to herself.

She rushed to the palace as fast as she could, approached the King, and knelt before him, "Majesty I have come as swiftly as I could to answer your command."

"Raise your head," Caspond said, and Neia complied. "Explain to me Neia Baraja, why my city guard has almost melted away?" He said in a frosty voice.

Neia's mouth went dry. "Sire, I do not know what you speak of, a handful of men departed after the murder of a man in the dungeon, but..."

"NO," Caspond's voice rang out, halting her tongue, "those men were the leaders of companies, and virtually the entirety of their companies went with them. Collectively, they were representing hundreds and hundreds of soldiers. Now their posts are empty."

Neia's mouth went dry. "HUNDREDS?!" she screamed inside her head. "Robel… that… idiot… he must have been trying to ease my mind by understating the size of the departure. Well, I'll clear that up later, for now I have to deal with this."

She realized a moment later that the silence had dragged out longer than it should, and she spoke, "Majesty, the death of the man we captured has exposed corruption in the nobility, and with the termination of the position of the man whose only crime was to be in charge at the time, many soldiers have lost faith in noble leadership other than your own."

Caspond leaned back on his throne, "I see. This is a problem. If I force them back to their positions I will appear to be in league with the corrupt, or at least corrupt myself, if I do nothing, I will not have enough guards for the city, so… do you have a suggestion, Neia Baraja?" The King asked. There were grumbles from around the attending court, various gossiping noblemen and women, priests and priestesses, but no one stepped forward intending to argue the matter, or even to deny that corruption had become rampant.

Inspiration struck her. "I do, your Majesty, allow Black Justice to take on the role of security for the city. We are trusted even by those who do not like us," She turned her gaze over to a few glaring paladins, including the viciously staring Remedios, "we have the numbers to manage it, and we have many skilled fighters." She said, and Caspond nodded in approval.

"That is true, however there are two problems, the first is payment, and the second is far simpler… you're something like rabble, you have no uniform or recognizable insignia." Caspond said with the slight beginnings of a smile on his face.

Neia thought it over for a moment, "Sire, you could hire Black Justice as if you were contracting adventurers, my lieutenant will handle the transactions and distribute pay to those of our members who fulfill that task, and I can design a uniform today and you can sell the contract for providing it to the noble of your choice. They all have sufficient resources to produce thousands of uniforms, and we have our own arms and armor, all we require is the means to maintain them, which we can do with our own blacksmith and no more than a small percentage of the ingots provided to us by the Sorcerous Kingdom." Her speech seemed to have the desired effect, and Caspond gave his consent, and dismissed her immediately.

Neia returned to her office and began to consider the Black Justice uniform. "It needs to be simple, combat effective, and recognizable by all." She said to the empty room as she turned over and dismissed various ideas in her head, but gradually the concept took shape. She settled on black clothing with a red chain running around the outside of the torso to represent their links to one another, and remembering the phrase, "A chain is only as strong as its weakest link." It was simple, meaningful, combat effective, and easy to mass produce. She considered other features, and settled on the fine points, before having the finished design sent to the King for production.

With that done, she wondered who to select for the expedition, before, much to her surprise, she drew inspiration again, and decided to let skill itself be the deciding factor. She would need ten scouts, forty of the best archers, and fifty of her very best close fighters, ideally capable of martial arts, and so that evening when… what everybody now knew to call "Black Justice" gathered again, she made her announcement.

"For the sake of the Kingdom I am to depart for three months' time, making a circuit around each of our cities and many of our towns. For this mission I require one hundred of you who are ready to face man, beast, weather, and demihuman threats. Only the most skilled will be brought with me, and to that end, tomorrow there will be a tournament. Those of you who wish to accompany me, appear at the wide training grounds outside the city at first light."

Excitement buzzed in the air, so much so that her lecture on the Sorcerer King's justice seemed almost lost on them all, or perhaps that was just her, she never did know the answer to that, but more important was that the next day there were several thousand followers outside the city ready to compete.

She quickly divided the fighters against one another, and after several rounds of combat, only fifty remained. Archers, she put targets progressively farther away in front of each line, and then she launched her own arrow into the sky, and both speed and accuracy were counted, with only those who hit every target in the center by the time Neia's arrow hit the ground again, were selected. After repeated trials of increasing difficulty, she had forty of the finest archers in the Kingdom. And last, she sent ten fast men running into the nearby forest, and the prospective scouts who found them each fastest, were selected in turn. Within a few hours, she had her company of warriors.

To the rest she said, "Though you have not won this day, you have tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and as many tomorrows as you can create with your own hands. Train hard, work hard, keep to the Sorcerer King's justice, I depart in 29 days, and when I return I'm looking forward to see a shining city of the Holy Kingdom once again. You who have triumphed will train until departure, and nothing else, we will be at our best, and we will be the best, our future depends on it, so I am depending on you!"

The people began to disperse, as the victors gave their names to a young girl making a list of them, and in the meantime, Neia hid her stress. "How the hell am I supposed to do this… it's one thing to act as a scout and a squire, but this is a whole other matter… I can't ask Remedios, Robel is good at guarding a city but not much else, so to whom do I speak for advice?" She thought and clutched at her head as the stress and anxiety pressed in on her. She froze, "Of course! There can be only one!" She said aloud to herself. She pulled out a message scroll left behind by the Sorcerer King, and contacted CZ. "CZ, my friend, I need your help."

"What can I do for you?" CZ asked.

"I've been given charge of escorting an important merchant and his caravan around the Holy Kingdom, and I have no idea how to do that." She said.

"Me neither." Said CZ, and Neia's hopes fell, "But I can ask my master, I am sure he will know."

Neia's heart fluttered, but she tried to tell CZ not to bother the Sorcerer King for her sake, only for CZ to say, "Nope, too late, already going, wait there." Neia sighed in frustration, surely the Sorcerer King wouldn't… and then the gate opened, and out stepped CZ, who immediately hugged Neia, revealing an affection her expressionless face did not reveal on its own, and then she put a sticker on Neia's cheek, and said, "Cute." Neia rolled her eyes, but hugged her back.

"It's good to see you CZ, but...why are you here?" She asked her friend.

"Lord Ainz wants to see you." CZ replied.

Neia could not move through the portal fast enough, and no sooner was she through, that she rushed to the base of the throne and knelt with her head deeply bowed, "Your Majesty!" She said with a devotionand sincerity that echoed so clearly and obviously from the depths (or replace this "depths" with bottom) of her soul, that it caught the guardians off guard, and caused them to glance at one another in shock, before genuine smiles appeared on their faces at the reverence of the human before them.

"Rise, Neia Baraja, it is good to see you again." Ainz said and stood from his throne, descending to where she knelt, and touching her shoulder with his skeletal hand.

"It is my greatest glory to behold you again, sire." Neia said sincerely, prompting the guardians to shiver in satisfaction behind their master, finding it pleasing to see a human know what the whole world should.

"I understand you have a problem you need help with." Ainz said after clearing his nonexistent throat.

"Aye sire, I've been charged to escort a merchant caravan around the Holy Kingdom, but I have never performed this task before, and fear failing and disgracing Your Majesty's justice. To fail you would be a grave sin, and I will not die a sinner." She said softly, but her powerful conviction rocked the guardians to their core, and it touched Ainz very deeply.

"Escort missions… everybody hates escort missions." Ainz said softly to himself, thinking of all the damn video games that felt the need to include those stupid things with their stupid suicidal AIs in charge of stupid suicidal mission objectives. Of course nobody there would have a clue what he meant, so he kept his voice too low to hear, but when he spoke louder he said, "The best way to prepare for any mission is knowledge, so to begin with, acquire the best local maps, and while you may have able scouts, those who live in an area always know it better than those who don't, so to that end, always send out a small advance party to contact locals and find out hazards. Further, always train as you fight..." Gradually the memories of his war crazy guild companion began to come back, and he elaborated on how to train to defend a caravan against attacks on the road or when encamped, the value of tight formations, use of terrain, and training so that every man knew his position, chaos was death in battle. He then laid out to Neia examples using small models from his inventory, things that were little consolation prizes from gacha machines, now served to educate Neia in mobile defense, and quietly Ainz was very glad he'd taken the time to study some of the books left behind by his friends, in particular "Small Wars" and "The Art of War", and by the time he was done, Neia began to wonder if there was anything Ainz did not know.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, however can I repay you?" She asked, and Ainz shook his head, "No need, just succeed and come back alive." His kind words made Neia want to weep.

But before she could say anything, Cocytus interjected, "Master, may I suggest something?"

"Of course, Cocytus." Ainz replied.

"Have her and her hundred men stay in Nazarick for the month, let me train them here on our grounds, the lizardmen will appreciate new opponents, and I can help them develop as warriors, and if I may, I would ask Sebas Tian to join me." Cocytus said, prompting a curious look from Ainz, but a nod of consent.

"As you are in charge, I understand you might not want to leave your city until you have prepared your replacement, however that is not a problem, we will open a gate for you daily and provide your commanders with message scrolls to reach you, this way you may train with your troops and not abandon your duties." Ainz said, overriding her objection before she could voice it.

"As you wish, your Majesty, your aid will surely make us successful." Neia replied.

A moment later she was gone through the gate, and when the gate was reopened a few hours later, she found herself not in the throne room, but in a wonderland like no other, and standing in front of them were two of the denizens of Nazarick, her people could not help but stare at the idyllic countryside and the seeming perfection of heaven into which they had stepped. Sebas broke the silence first by stepping forward. "I am Sebas Tian, combat butler, and I, along with Cocytus, will see to your training over the next thirty days. If you survive, you will be a force to be reckoned with, if you do not, you were not strong enough for your mission anyway. I hope you will prove to be the former." His elegant voice held their ears, and they bowed before him.

"We will be in your care." Neia said.

"Then let us begin." Cocytus said, and lizardmen began to arrive, led by one powerful looking figure holding an unusual blue blade.


	5. Training in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neia and her finest begin advanced combat training under the most dangerous and versatile figures they have ever seen. In this, you grow stronger, or you suffer.

...In Nazarick...

Introductions were brief, there were four hundred lizardmen who would serve as sparring partners, opposition forces, and instructors, and by putting Black Justice in an outnumbered position against naturally stronger forces, they would be forced to adapt and use their skills to best effect. It excited the band, but nothing so much as what happened when Ainz arrived at the training grounds. No sooner than he was seen than the humans began chanting, "Long live the Sorcerer King! Long may he reign, long may he reign!" with fists pumping into the air with every chorus.

Ainz waited until the cheering died down before he explained his coming.

"First, I understand you have only twenty-nine days, that is precious little time, so I intend to extend the length of those days considerably." He said.

"You mean you're asking the merchant and the king to give us more than a month?" Neia asked.

Ainz chuckled, "No, I'm going to stop time for you, so that you can train for several months or more to prepare yourselves properly." His statement was greeted with awed silence.

"Stop… time. Did I hear that correctly…? Your majesty will stop time… for the equivalent of months?" Neia asked, even for her already high opinion of Ainz, this was more than she imagined possible.

"Yes. Among other things. While time is stopped, you will be able to train here with the lizardmen and any opponents I create for you to push your limits under the leadership of Cocytus. Moreover, I will provide you with Rings of Sustenance so that you need not sleep or rest, I will unfreeze time for brief periods so that you may have some recreation, meals, and some time to mentally recuperate, but you will train in the time between times. You will take your meals here in my realm for the month, and I will have your latent talents revealed so that we can develop them, if there are any. Also…Cocytus, didn't you have something else?" Ainz asked.

"Yes, my lord. I have observed their fighting style, and I believe they would benefit greatly from monk training from Sebas, they incorporate much of his combat philosophy, so learning his martial skills, and facing his imposition of the fear of death should elevate them considerably." Cocytus said simply, and the jaws of the humans were slow at closing after falling open.

"If you pass your training, which is to say, if you survive, I will furnish you with some runecrafted gear tailored to you, similar to what I provide the adventurer's guild." Ainz said, and hands clenched in disbelief, until Neia knelt with eyes downcast.

"We are forever grateful for his majesty's support, but I must express confusion, how will you know if we have any latent abilities?" Neia's voice was reverential, awed, and eager as a child being offered a new puppy.

"I'll have the Sorting Hat brought out." Ainz said, "It's an enchanted hat that reveals any as yet unknown abilities in the wearer, after that it is up to you to develop them, if there are any worth while that are yet unknown."

"He has everything." Neia said to herself, "He truly is a god."

He handed a pouch over to Sebas, "Distribute the rings, I will stop time, and leave you to your work." Sebas nodded to his master, and Ainz cast his spell, and walked away.

As the rings were being handed out to human and lizardman alike, one of the men asked Sebas, "Where did he come across such a... hat? I have never heard of anything like that.

Sebas shrugged and said, "Oh that, my creator mentioned it once, he said it came from someone called "Shi-ti-dev" who got it from a school called Hogwarts that had many pupils long ago, which Shi-ti-dev was very fond of. My master didn't approve, he called it a cheap way to learn one's inner magic. However, be that as it may, it serves our purposes now when you will undergo training. While we wait for it to be brought, you will face death, and we will see how much that improves you. Find your focus within the whirlwind of my killing intent, and if you can, you will grow beyond yourself today."

There were loud swallows, but Neia was quick to set the example by going first. Sebas braced himself, and unleashed his killing intent upon Neia, and it felt like a thousand shards of ice were stabbing at her soul as she was flung about helplessly in a whirlwind, "Prepare yourself or perish, know you are going to die if you do not!" And then he unleashed his punch, and Neia managed to move her body despite her fear and avoided the fatal blow. She collapsed to one knee, breathing hard, and sweating as if she had run for miles in full plate armor.

"I faced Jaldabaoth, I felt his evil… but never in my life have I felt a core of terror so great." She said as she wiped the sweat from her brow before she managed to rise and held out her hands to two of her people that had approached to help her move aside.

Sebas nodded, "Yes, that is the power of the killing soul, you are… very impressive for a human, Lady Neia. I wonder what you will achieve when you leave here."

She smiled at the praise, and two of her band helped her away, as the next one stepped up. When it was done, while no one had died, some had been badly injured and required healing, which to their shock, was unquestioningly provided, instant, and the test was repeated until being passed. By that time, the Sorting Hat arrived, and one by one they sat and put it on, it was a pointy hat of the sort favored by witches, only it had a mouth, and it spoke their talents, known and unknown, some had oddities that were seemingly useless, like one man who could tell the exact age of any food item, while another had a powerful but highly specific ability, which was to breath underwater, and another had the latent ability to sense hostile intentions in others just by looking at them.

While this was going on, two dark elf children arrived, and they supervised the construction of a series of wagons by some undead laborers, they paid no mind to the humans, who took their silence as a lack of interest, and though they watched the pair work, they did not approach or interrupt the labor. It was clear that this was going to be used for training purposes. When skeletons arrived and began climbing into the various wagons, they looked confused, but that did not last long as Cocytus said, "These skeletons will represent your merchants whom you must protect, they will do little to defend themselves, and they will not turn on you, when the lizardmen play the role of hostile forces, you must secure your encampment against all threats and fend off all attacks. Every one of you must know where you should be and what you should be doing in that position."

They nodded sagely as the last man put on his ring and the last one recovered from Sebas' test.

"Lady Neia," Sebas said, "show me the Black Justice combat system." Neia smiled happily and took up a position thirty meters away. "Fear not," Sebas said politely, "I will limit my skill to that of a mere platinum ranked adventurer, and I am not out to kill you, I simply need to see what your system employs to see where I can help develop it further."

Neia nodded politely and took out her bow, and Cocytus said firmly, "Begin!"

Swift as she could she drew and fired two arrows, before moving in close and pulling out her sword, she slid and slashed low at his knees, he jumped straight up, easily avoiding her attack, however while he was in the air, she was hot on his heels, having turned, compressed herself like a coiled spring, and leapt at him in turn, using her free hand to grab the iron butler and throw him off balance, before bringing her sword to his neck, his palm knocked away her sword, and he followed with a kick, which Neia blocked with a palm of her own, and rebounded from to redraw her bow and fire two more arrows, before darting in and trying to strike the sternum to knock the wind out of Sebas, who in response chopped down at her shoulder, only to see her roll away, draw and fire again, before leaping forward and stabbing at his exposed armpit, and when he avoided the blow, she chopped at the exposed side with her mana enhanced hand. After several minutes of back and forth, Sebas leapt back and Cocytus called a halt.

"A fine display." Cocytus answered, "Seamless incorporation of range and close strikes utilizing speed and precision blows and the use of your sword gives you both a shield, a weapon, and a distraction to give your free hand an opening. You built this system yourself?" Cocytus asked, and Neia proudly answered in the affirmative.

Sebas straightened his coat, "Very impressive, were I a peak level platinum adventurer, I'm sure you would have defeated me, your style controls the flow of battle by way of controlling the flow of your body, I can see why Cocytus thought my monk style could be of help. I will teach you what I can while you are here. If you can further develop your control over magic, you will be able to enhance your abilities further."

Neia grinned from ear to ear, "I can't wait." She said.

The first exercise was to set up an encampment… which they quickly made a mess of, leaving the carts lined up and trying to patrol them, left them vulnerable at every point to massed attack, they lost over 80% of the skeletons in the first attack before they could muster a defense.

When the second exercise took place, they knew to contract their wagons into a small circle, as small as possible, and they kept the skeletons inside the circle while they held the wagons themselves… they did better then, sort of… except for when the blunted arrows were accidentally fired into the backs of their colleagues as those men and women leapt down from the carts, in front of the archers just as they loosed their volley, and a distraction perpetrated by the lizardmen resulted in a penetration that saw 70% casualties before it could be dealt with.

The third attempt went well, the archers stayed back and fired in an arc behind the warriors after tightly compressing their next crop of skeletons in the wagon circle, and it continued to go well until it didn't, which is to say that when a simulated night fell, they could see nothing, and they were picked off one by one.

On the fourth attempt they lit torches and stationed guards, only to find that fail too because the hostiles targeted the torch emplaced guards.

This prompted Cocytus to say, "If you keep your torches where you stand, you'll see several feet out and then nothing beyond it, instead, stagger your torches at a distance, and stay back from them, that way you will be in the darkness, and you will be looking into the light, and anyone who approaches, you will see before they can see you."

They followed that excellent advice and caught the lizardman advance.

This led to a series of bouts with blunted swords, that saw the humans and their lizardman counterparts gradually both continue to improve.

They had no idea how long they were practicing for in the frozen moment, before at last Cocytus called a halt when Ainz returned and dispelled his time stop magic. "My master has decreed that you should not be made to suffer unduly by the stress of constant action, therefore you will be served a meal and given six hours of recreation time, and then Sebas will provide guidance in monk arts that will improve your existing combat skills."

Neia expressed her gratitude, but she could not help but ask, "How long have we been training for… in... I don't know… real time?"

Cocytus did not have a mouth suitable for smiling, but she thought she could hear a smile in his voice when he said, "My master has chosen to not reveal that, not until the end will you know what you have achieved." Neia's face appeared slightly disappointed, but she accepted the answer, and then her jaw dropped… as seemed to happen every time Lord Ainz presented something. For what she saw was a series of maids of unrivaled beauty pushing carts filled with food and drinks.

Having lived a relatively meager existence merely sustaining herself on field craft, rations, and whatever her parents could provide when she was a child, this was a whole new experience. "Line up, take a plate, bowl, and cup each, and help yourselves as you move down the line, my master calls this a 'buffet'. If you wish another helping, please feel free." Sebas said kindly.

"What… are these things?" One of the men asked in awe.

One by one Sebas pointed to the items and identified them, "That is crab, that is dragon steak, that is hamburger, made from cattle, that is lobster, that is a stew called minestrone, those cold items are deserts called ice cream..." One by one he rattled off the names, but people had ceased to care what they were called… though the dragon steak did raise eyebrows, what mattered was the taste of paradise as they dug in. It was so overwhelming that it wasn't until after the first helping and the start of the second that the humans began to converse with the lizardmen.

Internally, Neia sighed with relief. "That is a load off my mind," she thought to herself, "If I'm being honest about it, I wasn't sure they would be able to work with demihumans, but perhaps because there were no lizardman invaders and they are the servants of our savior, they can do so without fear or reservation." Her thoughts on the matter faded as the explosion of flavor went off in her mouth as she drank something called a 'mango juice'. What else was there to try, if even one item was this good?!

Meanwhile, alone in the throne room, Demiurge and Albedo were deep in conversation.

"You felt the same thing I did Albedo," Demiurge said, "She's utterly devoted to him, the power imbued in her voice could not have meant anything else, and it must have been as obvious to you as it was to me."

Albedo fumed, she did not like other women around her master, though it was natural to tolerate those of Nazarick, this was something else entirely.

"Yes, I know, though I don't feel the power of the voice as you do, it was clear, she has awakened the power of the evangelism profession, and she has rendered it to the service of our master, she could not use it if she did not have dedication to something other than herself. But how strong is it?" Albedo asked after acknowledging what Demiurge had said.

"It's hard to say," Demiurge said as he stroked his chin thoughtfully, "At first when watching her, she could only move those who shared the common tragedy that she had, but she's been giving nightly speeches and has constantly been improving her ability, like training with a sword. Practice makes for mastery, she can now win others over who are very different from herself, and her exhortations are providing stat boosts to those who follow her and penalties to those who do not, I would say she is about level three." Demiurge said, "It may be slightly higher than that, but it is so difficult to tell. I would know if she were level five, at that stage she could call on the aura of the one she serves, and she is definitely unable to do that. But her ability to both intimidate and to inspire suggests level three."

Albedo raised her eyebrow at that, "Level three you say...well the locals of this world seem to not have the same restrictions we do, can she use the command voice as you do to control others?" She asked with a measure of concern at the thought.

"No. I doubt any human will ever be that powerful, but still, she is the first evangelist I have seen in this world. But if she is not as devoted as she seems, then she should be disposed of." He said, a sentiment that Albedo found herself in agreement with.

"Shall we do the ritual of the Supreme Beings to see who gets to test her, and watch her fail?" Albedo asked, confident that the limits of human devotion stopped at the conflict of self-preservation.

"Agreed. Best of three or just once?" He asked.

"Once." She replied.

Their hands went back, then snapped forward… "Rock!" they said, and drew their hands back swiftly again… "Paper!" they snapped out and drew their hands back again… "Scissors!" they shouted and drew their hands back again… "Shoot!" they shouted and snapped their hands into position, Albedo held her hand in a fist...while Demiurge had his flat as paper.

"I win!" Demiurge said with a smile, prompting a huff from Albedo.

"Very well, you see if her devotion to our lord is greater than it is to her own life. But when she fails, I want you to make sure it's humiliating, degrading, painful, and slow."

Demiurge's cruel smile didn't change, "Albedo… when have I ever had any other way?" They shared a laugh, and Demiurge walked away.

For some time Neia could think of nothing else but the experience of this amazing meal, and her revelling might have gone on for longer, if she had not felt a hand on her shoulder, and a well-dressed frogman asked to speak with her alone.

She swallowed quickly, and stood up, "Of course sir, I am at your disposal." He began to walk, and Neia stayed beside him.

"I am Demiurge, a guardian of Nazarick." He said, introducing himself.

"Neia Baraja, at your service, sir." She said simply.

As they moved away from the others, he asked her pointedly, "What is Lord Ainz to you?"

She didn't even hesitate. "He is a god. The god of justice, and the only god in this world I serve."

"I see, not the god of magic, life, or death?" He asked.

Neia pursed her lips in thought and looked at the ground for a moment, before raising her face to meet his gaze, "No. Oh, it is true his magic power is beyond anything in this world, and one might call him a god just for that. It is also true he is also able to provide life and unlife to the dead and there is no living being he could not defeat. However, these are only tools and aspects of the being himself, and while he is greater in those than others, I call him the god of justice because he can literally define justice for all the world. He is the ultimate arbiter, and his will is done over any that might be foolish enough to contest against him. If that is not a god, I do not know what a god is."

Demiurge silently accepted her words, and then said, "And if your god demands your life?"

Neia's eyes were afire when she said, "Then my life is his, tell me now how I can best die in his service, and I will make it so."

Demiurge produced a dagger.

"Your words will please the Supreme One, I will pass them to him after your body has gone cold." He said politely.

Neia looked at him in discomfort but stayed silent to listen. "Lord Ainz requires your life, and he requires it immediately. Push this into your heart, and his will shall be fulfilled."

Neia began to remove her armor, "Then let his will be done in all the world, as it is in Nazarick. Tell him I said thank you for everything, and that his humble servant begs that he please lend his power to my people when I am gone." She said, and as the armor fell to the ground, she snatched the dagger, met his gaze, and put it over her heart. "Also, please tell him I didn't hesitate." She said and the black flash of her eyes was beautifully demonic, impenetrable as ink and hard as armor, she did not blink as she brought the dagger home full force.

Nothing happened. The dagger shook in her hands, the tip did not even penetrate her shirt, she looked down at it in frustration, then drew it out away from her body with both hands as far as her arms could stretch. She tried again, drawing it in swift as one of her arrows from a bow. The dagger was clearly at her flesh, but no matter how hard she brought it to bear over her heart it would not pierce her skin, she brought it out again and again, and slammed it against her heart as hard as she could. She tried to turn it sideways and draw it across her throat, but it would not cut. She tried to force it into her eye, but though she could feel it at her pupil, it would not even scratch the surface of that vulnerable part of her. Demiurge was standing over her, watching intently.

She began screaming in a rage at herself, "Why won't I die?! His will must be done! I must die! I have to!" She pushed the dagger at her chest again with such force that she felt her bones ache, but the tip would not enter, she looked at the frogman and began to cry. "I'm trying!" She shouted, "I don't know what's wrong, I'm really trying! I swear it!" She snarled out and held the tip at her throat. Her legs locked up, she closed her eyes, and she leaned forward intending to fall and force it to open up her veins that way.

"Stop." Said Demiurge, and he reached out and stopped her with one hand. Neia paused as his hand held her back from the fall. When he'd righted her, he turned his hand over and held it out. "Give me the dagger." He said. She looked at him uncertainly but flipped it around and put the pommel in his hand. Already she was trying to choke out a plea for forgiveness for her failure at to end her life.

"You could never kill yourself with this, nor anyone else. It's the Dagger of Paradox, you can only do things with it that you do not intend to do, and can never do what you want. If you tried to kill yourself for a thousand lifetimes, it would fail to so much as break the skin, if you accidentally dropped it on your foot, you could easily lose all your toes. If you had tried to pretend to end your life, you would have the dagger in your heart right now."

Neia's face calmed down as understanding dawned. "It was a test?" She asked in a small voice.

"Yes," Demiurge said, "...and you passed."

Neia's face was conflicted, and then Demiurge clarified, "The test was of my devising, not that of Lord Ainz, as his servant, I must ensure all those he trusts, are worthy of that trust, and Lord Ainz has placed great trust in your devotion to his will."

"Lord Ainz trusts me?!" Neia thought as her face expressed her pure joy as the words echoed in her mind and she impulsively hugged Demiurge, who was caught off-guard by the gesture, but he gingerly disentangled himself, trying not to hurt her as he did so.

Back in the throne room, the remaining guardians available, had watched through the mirror of remote viewing as Neia struggled to end her life and go almost mad at the failure, and the change to happiness when she hugged Demiurge, before turning the mirror off.

"It was a cruel test." Shalltear said, a sentiment that surprised others who knew her merciless ways. "Don't you agree, is there any fate worse than failing the last Supreme Being, as one who did fail once, even I can pity her if she fell to madness over it." She said, and this prompted a consensus that Demiurge had indeed been cruel.

"But," Albedo said, "it would not have been cruel if she had not passed the test, then it would have just been useless meat being disposed of. Now we know, and I begin to see what my precious Ainz, wisest of the Supreme Beings, sees in these humans. If they are capable of the same devotion we are, some of them at least, are worth having around."

The guardians dispersed back to their duties, and Neia returned to the training grounds, and their sessions resumed, hour after grinding hour, she had no idea how long it had been in those timeless moments. It was hours, days, weeks, perhaps even months of constant drilling, training in combat, learning the sword from Cocytus and lizardman alike, training against monsters summoned just for them to face, and demihuman golems of the sort that still hid in the countryside and mountains.

The terrain changed that they had to account for in securing the caravan, so that they learned how to fight uphill, downhill and in mountains and forests. They were taught something called 'sign language' to speak silently with one another, and the scouts were guided by a group called 'The Eight Edge Assassins' in the art of stealth.

While talents were developed relentlessly, only intermittently did Ainz unfreeze time, allowing them to celebrate milestones, and they were taught the arts of war and strategy, opening up worlds of knowledge they had never dreamt of before coming to the dreamland of Nazarick...and then at last, after what seemed like an eternity, Ainz said, "This is the last unfrozen moment, you have completed your training, we will celebrate your progress in my grand hall, and then you will return, for tomorrow your mission begins. I will have some runecrafted equipment delivered to you tomorrow, and you will make me proud of you all. Of that I am sure." Ainz said with his red eyes shining brightly, piercing their eyes as if he could see their thoughts.

They cleaned themselves up, and walked into the dining hall, and jaws did as they were now used to doing… which is to drop at the phenomenal and intricate artwork, which Ainz began to explain to them, leaving them in an even deeper awe.

A rousing series of speeches followed, from Cocytus, from their lizardmen counterparts, to Neia, who expressed her thanks to Ainz and the denizens of Nazarick for their time and instruction, and at last Ainz stood to speak. "You were worth teaching, you will do me proud, it was a year well spent. Now go forth and make my justice known."

That was how he dropped the bomb… their 'month' had been expanded into a full year for them by training in frozen time, and their explosive growth and breadth of knowledge suddenly made more sense.

When the dinner was concluded, Ainz summoned [Gate] and when the humans had formed up behind Neia, they knelt as one and shouted, "Long live Ainz Ooal Gown!" Until their voices were hoarse, and at a gesture from Ainz, they stood, and walked through the gate, larger, stronger, faster, and wiser than they had been when they first walked into Nazarick.

What awaited them beyond the gate was a world they would never see the same way again, and which in turn, would never see them the same way again either. That much both the human band of Black Justice and the denizens of Nazarick, were certain of.

AN: I hope you got a bit of a chuckle out of the Harry Potter reference, given that Yggdrasil was a game, it seemed reasonable to me that there would be "fan inserts" by the devs just like there sometimes are in games like World of Warcraft & Skyrim. I thought that would be just a neat reference, don't expect the hat to pop up often, though it may get an occasional reference.

**(AN: If you want a description of the artwork, a separate story 'Memory and a Message' will contain the fine points).**


	6. The Sprouting of the Seed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neia and her champions set out on their journey with the most powerful merchant in the Holy Kingdom, challenges arise from within and without...
> 
> But when you're trained and equipped by the most dangerous beings in the world...
> 
> You've got the odds in your favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The means by which they acquired the skills they did, is found in my story 'Training in Time' which has not yet been uploaded to this site, it is currently only found on FFN, however, I WILL begin uploading that one here tomorrow.

When Neia and her band stepped through the gate, they found themselves outside the city. Near to hand was the merchant caravan. Already it was being prepared for the next day's journey, crates were being loaded, sacks of supplies were present, guards were moving up and down the line of wagons as peasant laborers moved to and from warehouses and shops with wheelbarrows, small carts, and just plain old fashioned muscle to get it all ready.

When the last of her people were through the gate she formed them up and said, "You will encamp here outside the city to receive the equipment from the Sorcerer King when it arrives. I must go back into the city and ensure that the uniforms for the soldiers we leave behind are properly prepared. There were solemn and silent nods, and the Black Justice team quickly established a small series of encampments in circles and made themselves comfortable.

Neia, for her part, went into the city and found Robel & Gilcrest, who presented her with 101 uniforms made to her specifications, which were quickly loaded into carts to be ferried out to her waiting band. "Not only do we have enough for you," Robel said, "But we have enough for all our people, despite the Count Handor trying to cheat us, the quality is very good."

Neia's expression turned dark, "Handor? How is it that Count Handor is supplying this?" She asked.

"He won the bid from King Caspond to supply uniforms to us, though how he managed to do so cheaply, I can't imagine, still, he did it, the work has been inspected, and it is of good quality. Our people are already sporting them on patrols and guard stations, and it is very effective at deterring criminal behavior." Gilcrest answered with a broad smile.

A disquieting sensation came over Neia as she caressed their uniform to be. "I don't like this, if there were time, I'd go so far as to have all new ones made just so that he didn't profit from supplying us. I suppose it is too late to worry about that now though." She shook her head, it was, for lack of a better word, irksome. She was very, very irked to be tied to Handor even remotely, and as she thought on the subject, she considered that perhaps the purpose of his acquiring the contract was more politically motivated than monetarily. After all, it tied him directly to the law enforcement of the city. She rubbed her forehead; life was easier when problems were solved by arrows. She stopped her contemplation and turned her attention to Robel and Gilcrest. "While I'm gone, expand on the public utility houses and security to avoid any repeats of what happened with the Slane Theocracy **(AN: See the story "Training in Time")** , and, there is one more thing. Petition the King for permission to build temples to Lord Ainz far beyond the Capitol We will need them to praise our god and serve him the way he should be served...everywhere. While I am gone, I will do as I have done before, and spread his word among the people of this nation."

Neither Gilcrest nor Robel tried to argue the point, but Robel asked, "What if there are objections?"

"From anyone other than the King?" She asked.

They nodded.

"No other objections matter. That is how power works." She said.

"And if it is from the King?" Gilcrest added.

"I am asking as a courtesy, not out of necessity. Our god WILL be properly revered. I am building it with him, or without him, but given the choice, I would rather it be with him." Neia did not linger with any longer, but as they watched her leave the two looked at one another.

"That must have been one hell of a month, did you FEEL that?" Robel asked.

Gilcrest shivered. "I do not want to be the one who has to say no to her, she was different somehow from when she began to prepare for this. When you send your request to the King, please be persuasive."

"It may not be the King we have to worry about, he's still grateful to the Sorcerer King, it's the Paladins we have to worry about, and it's the corrupt nobles with ties to the temples to the six that may parlay their influence against us. Remedios will only not be an obstacle if the news of the request causes her head to explode with rage, anything less, and she'll be in the way." Robel said worriedly.

Gilcrest nodded at that, but there was nothing else to be done.

The uniforms were delivered to the newly commissioned city security forces of Black Justice within the hour. It was with much fanfare they were donned, and they made for an imposing sight, what had been mere peasants, tradesman, and line soldiers only little better than the troops of other nations was now a deadly and elite force of hardened veterans with a unique and dangerous combat method who to a man were made ready by a pair of the deadliest denizens of Nazarick and a lizardman of roughly adamantite strength.

That evening, before the Sun had set, a [gate] had opened, and Sebas Tian stepped through, followed by wagon loads of gear. "Lady Neia" Sebas said, "I have some equipment for you, as well as some guidance on its uses." Neia grinned happily, like a schoolgirl finding a beautiful flower or bird.

Sebas stepped aside and brought out a chain mail vest. "This is runecrafted to reduce its weight and decrease the impact of blows, the attachments for the arms enhance strength and dexterity, and the helmet is enchanted the same way as the vest. I understand you already have ordinary boots, so I have brought leggings that enhance your speed and your luck. Even without the training you have received, these would make you into very tough targets, as to weapons, as your style has focused upon sword work, your swords have enchantments on them that increase sharpness, these will not dull even if you used them as shields, furthermore some are enchanted with fire, ice, shock, or wind, respectively, I suggest allowing your people to choose which element they favor best for themselves. For bows, the enchantments increase vision capability as well as both the range and impact power of arrows launched from them. You should be well prepared for your mission now, so make the Sorcerer King glad he has placed his faith in you." Sebas said in his customary serious tone.

Neia was overjoyed, and when Sebas left, she quickly queued up her people and conveyed what Sebas had said to her, they were as ecstatic as she, and the gear was quickly divided up.

When morning came, they were ready, they were so filled with anticipation that they barely slept. Shortly after sunrise Tinamoc approached Neia, "I see your people are ready to go, my personal guards will be joining us as well, but I will be in your care. Please see to our safety." Neia reached out and shook his hand as she looked him over, his fingertips were calloused from writing, but the rest of his hands were very soft, he was somewhat overweight, to be expected for a middle aged merchant of considerable success, he had neat black hair and wore fine but travel appropriate clothing of mottled greens and blues, and arguably more distinctively, did not wear an abundance of jewelry so as to not stand out to much personally. He had a kind looking face and his eyes had a twinkle of merriment to them that no doubt had charmed many an extra coin out of those with whom he dealt, it was flatly impossible for her to not like the man. Neia however, kept her voice neutral and tone professional.

"I will," Neia answered, "but please for the sake of your safety, follow our instructions immediately and without question, the shepherd cannot protect the sheep that wander away from the flock." Tinamoc nodded gravely and went to the head of his column, and the movement began, Black Justice broke into groups with practiced ease and stayed beside the caravan, and for four days, all was well. Each night Neia exhorted the virtues of strength and the evil of the sin of weakness, and when camp was made, Black Justice fighters took turns training and resting when not on watch. On the very first night, one of Tinamoc's guards decided he wished to challenge Neia to combat.

He was a large, beefy man with considerable muscle to his frame, he wore chainmail armor and carried a large round shield paired with a simple but effective longsword. He had a thick beard that was neatly trimmed and piercing eyes that appeared only on veterans who have seen great hardship, he was the incarnation of what one thought of when the phrase 'born for war' was uttered. "I know of your reputation, Neia Baraja," he said with a gruff voice, "but I always thought of you as being…rather taller." He laughed.

Neia smiled ever so sweetly and said, "A big body and a little brain is easily struck by both wit and steel, but a little body and a big brain is not easily struck by either, all things considered, I prefer being me to being you." She laughed, and a number of 'ooohs' came from the men around the camp, both Black Justice and Tinamoc's elites had their eyes go wide at her witty reply, and the behemoth of a man went purple with rage.

"Big talk from a little girl." He said and held the pommel of his sword in one hand.

She shrugged, "Maybe so, but the little can talk big when they can back it up, while the big who can't, should talk very little." She again turned his own words on him, and he began to draw his sword. A crowd began to form in a circle around them, but Neia did not flinch.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Neia asked.

"Someone needs a lesson in manners." He said.

"Agreed." Neia said, "First blood, unconsciousness, or death, it's your call." She said.

"Unconsciousness will do. You can apologize when you wake up." He said arrogantly. Neia gave a polite bow of her head.

"As you wish." She said and took out her own shorter blade. "Then I'll need to replace these." She took off her quiver and held it out to one of her people. "Give me blunted arrows, wooden heads." She said, and a few moments later she was handed a quiver full of the blunted training arrows.

More and more people gathered by this time, and cheers began to go up, it drew more and more attention, and merchants began to take notice, some of who began to take bets. Neia then had a pleasant idea, and she held up her hand and wagered the price of a beer from the commissary wagon against everyone who bet against her.

Neia gave him a smile as he held out sword and shield with his arms wide apart and began to strut, exhorting his people to cheer for him and calling out his name over and over. "Zagan! Zagan! Zagan!" His people took up the cheer, while Neia simply stretched quietly and waited for him to be ready. At first glance, it appeared to be intimidation, it was as if she were afraid to boast, but to those who knew her, it was the opposite. She did not need the psychological boost of cheers and exhortations for herself, the quietness of battle's imminence was enough for her to also quiet her mind.

When he turned back to her to give an arrogant smile, it quickly ran away from his face, her eyes had a different look, they no longer danced with happy whimsy or wit, they bore the look of night's cloak, as if death had blessed her as its acolyte. He did not have an opportunity to rethink his choice to challenge her, because someone stepped forward and shouted, "Begin!"

Neia wasted no time, she snapped out her bow and fired three arrows in rapid succession, while Zagan raised his shield in front of him and started his charge, he stopped the arrows but he lost sight of Neia who was already charging, she slid low, under the shield and smacked his knee with the pommel of her sword even as she went past him.

Zagan tumbled forward face first at the painful blow and Neia used her free hand to slow her slide along the ground, rolled over to her belly, sprang up to the sprinter's starting position and rushed at his back. Zagan rolled out of the way just before her sword could connect, already through his mind the knowledge ran that she could have severed his leg if she had used the edge instead of the pommel, but experience defeated intimidation and he rose back to his feet, she, however, was moving as well and as he rose to his knees, but before he could get the rest of the way up, a martially enhanced hand grabbed onto the shield and yanked it out of the way. His eyes had not even finished going wide when the hand grabbed his perfect beard and pulled his face painfully hard towards a quickly advancing knee. It connected right in the face, spraying blood and blinding him. He tried to bring his sword to bear, but her own deflected it before she kicked him in the face, this time sending him onto his back. She jumped forward slightly landing with feet on either side of his body, and he found himself looking up at her face, while her sword's tip was at his throat. He relaxed and let his sword drop.

"You win." He said. "The fight was over and Neia stepped back. "You have the body of a sapling and the spirit of a warrior, I retract my previous remarks, your reputation is well earned." Zagan said and started to laugh. "I live through this mission, I'll tell my grandchildren that Neia Baraja kicked my ass."

Neia stepped back and put up her sword, then reached down and offered her hand to help him up. He took it, and she pulled, as he got to his feet she said, "Your beard is very nice, but it made for an easy weakness to exploit, I'd shave it before you go on future missions."

Zagan nodded, "Good advice." He said.

As people grumbled, Neia shouted, "Since I won, well…drinks are on me! A beer for every man and woman who bet against me…after all, you kind of bought it anyway!" She laughed good naturedly, and it drew favorable laughs in return. Good will began to grow from the bout thereafter.

Others among the elite guards of Tinamoc began to challenge Black Justice members to combat but were uniformly smashed with the unusual and flexible combat methods that Black Justice employed. Neia took advantage of those times to preach to the defeated guards, and first among them to pay close mind to what she had to say, was the defeated Zagan.

"What if we had been demihumans eager to take your lives, what if you were all there was between your children and death at our hands, you would have been guilty of failure, the sin of weakness would have caused the blood of your loved ones to be spilled. Weakness is the greatest sin because it is the greatest obstacle to justice..." On and on she spoke and some of the guards of Tinamoc became nightly visitors to listen to Neia speak.

However, it was the fifth day that saw Black Justice put to the test. They had just left a village behind the day before, a village Neia had spent hours preaching in, telling stories of the heroism and justice of Ainz Ooal Gown, and she was just about to make camp when a scout approached. "Demihuman bandits are coming, several hundred of them." The scout said, "They're moving through the woods on either side of the road, my comrade is making noise and distractions to delay them to buy us time to prepare, but they will be here within the hour."

Neia quickly barked orders. "Circle the caravan as tightly as you can, close formation, noncombatants, hide yourselves, send a rider back to the village to warn them about the attack, tell them we will fight, but in case any circle around us, they must be prepared!"

Her voice boomed out as if she were preaching to her flock, and with the practiced ease of a year of training, the wagons were circled close, the guards of Tinamoc were in the rear position, while Black Justice fanned out in a line, with two short wings hidden in the woods on either side.

When the bandits saw them, it was immediately obvious the jig was up. For a moment Neia thought they may withdraw rather than attack a prepared position. However, as if she were in his head, she could hear the commander saying to himself, "A fat prize, and what good are a few lazy guards against us?"

"Fool." She thought with a shake of her head. She looked over their numbers, they were made up of snakemen, tigermen, and ogres, among a few others she didn't recognize, they must have been survivors of Jaldabaoth's defeat that could not go home and had chosen to live off the humans they could overpower. They weren't in the best of shape, but they were still demihumans and were used to being able to defeat ordinary humans.

As they charged, she shouted, "Loose!" and those who were best at archery fired at a distance, arrows flew faster and faster, piercing demihuman flesh, and as they closed, those who were better with a sword, but could still use the bow, drew and fired a series of volleys, before Neia shouted, "Charge!" and to the shock of the demihumans still standing, humans came charging at them.

Black Justice was fast and precise, as demihuman weapons came down, either swords blocked blows, or hands caught and threw the monsters off balance, the warriors on the wings charged and hit the flanks of the demihumans and folded inward from the rear, and the fearless humans began to make short work of the demihuman raiders. Tinamoc and his guards were watching the conflict, as were the laborers who traveled with him, and they watched as if spellbound to do so, as humans became monsters in the eyes of monsters, Neia confronted the apparent chief of the band, a tigerman that fought with claws and teeth and raw physical strength as his tools. Neia however, used her sword for darting blows that pained and distracted him, and used her speed and monk enhanced grip from her free hand to grab and squeeze the trachea of the monster so tight that it was crushed. It towered over her but collapsed in her hand as its neck was snapped in her grip, and when he went limp, any remaining fight went out of the remaining demihumans. They who had been predators, became as prey and tried to flee… but failed. Arrows took down the few who managed to break away from combat, and the entire business was over faster than an evening meal.

"Check for survivors, secure the area, and conduct accountability, there may be more, scouts, check the area and return in no later than a quarter hour!" Neia barked out as she kicked a corpse out of the way, her cloak flapped behind her as a breeze picked up and she looked back over the caravan she guarded. "Check each other! Ensure nobody has been injured!" The guards of Tinamoc quickly followed her orders and began checking everyone, and within an hour, the scouts had returned and the enemy checked for survivors, among the dead, there lay but one, a bearman whose growl of defiance died when he looked into the eyes of Neia Baraja.

"You're about to die, justice demands it." She said. "The only question is, how much will it hurt before you do. If you want it to hurt substantially less, you will answer what I ask you. How many others are there?"

He looked at her dumbfounded. She responded to his silence by grabbing the furry wrist and twisting with inhuman strength, prompting a cry of pain. "I will have answers, or I will have screams, either will do for me, but only one of those is better for you. What will it be?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" He asked in a shaky voice.

She grabbed an arrow and stabbed it through his hand. "How many other bands like yours are there? The demihuman army is destroyed, Jaldabaoth is dead, the only way for a band like yours to survive in a hostile land is to work with others like yourselves, that means you've met them before. Now answer me or I'll cut out your eyes and send you blind to face the justice of Lord Ainz Ooal Gown." That did it, the bearman wet himself, and began to tell her everything he knew.

After thirty minutes, she put an arrow in his eye, keeping her promise of a swift death. As she looked over his corpse, she thought about who she'd been just a few years earlier, happier perhaps, more smiling on an average day, even if she hadn't really had any comrades, looking back she remembered a sweeter and more innocent version of herself. The loss of that sense of self, and the awareness of what replaced it in the form of who she was now was not as troubling as she thought it should have been. By hardening herself, she saved more lives. All things considered… it was a fair trade.

She went back to Tinamoc and reported what she had learned. "There are a dozen or so demihuman bands around the Holy Kingdom, some larger than others, none enough to constitute an army, but they've been surviving by staying in the wilds or in areas where humans were depopulated, they meet to trade chiefly in forests, and they avoid the roads except when there is no other choice, though they do take isolated travelers from the road when opportunity permits. In all probability they were not targeting us, they were likely going to strike the village. If we have the time, I would like to carry the demihuman bodies back to the village for use, they can gain some wealth from harvesting materials from the demihuman corpses."

Tinamoc nodded with his face pale, "Had you not been here, I'd be in one of their bellies now, I would say that two days is the least I owe you."

Some of the wagons were temporarily emptied and the demihuman bodies were loaded into them. Then Neia and a handful of her people took the corpses back to the shocked village. Neia arrived as the people were preparing to flee, and they paused only when they saw that it was wagons driven by people, and when Neia through back the hood of her black cloak revealing her humanity, a collective sigh of relief was expelled.

"In accordance with the justice of Ainz Ooal Gown, ruler of the Sorcerous Kingdom, the predators who had turned to evil have been killed. Black Justice has exterminated all this band, you are most fortunate, had they not come until we were beyond them then you would all be for the afterlife. You would be dead because you are sinners!" She pointed at each of them as she stood atop her wagon. "The sin of weakness would have killed your children, your loved ones, you would have fought bravely, died quickly, and been delicious as your infants and elderly alike slid into the bellies of this!" She reached back and grabbed the corpse of the tigerman and threw it into the dirt in front of her. The great god of justice, Ainz Ooal Gown, exercised his strength to save us sinners so that we may grow strong enough to save ourselves, and today I worked his will to preserve you and my charge, but who will save you tomorrow if not you? Who will protect your pregnant women, your mothers and fathers bowed by age and to slow to flee, your sick bound to their beds, your wives and husbands, your children and grandchildren, if not you? If all you do is wait to be saved, why should anyone save you?! Come to the faith of Black Justice, and sin NO MORE!" she shouted.

She turned to the men behind her, "Get the bodies down and pile them in the center of the village." As they obeyed, she leapt down from the wagon and approached the tigeman's corpse and severed its head in a single blow. "I will claim this head for my uses, but you may skin the bodies of the rest and use the parts of them however you wish, that should yield enough wealth to buy weapons. If you have heard my message and have taken it into your hearts, send a representative to the capitol, ask for Robel or Gilcrest, tell them you want Black Justice to send a representative to aid you in growing strong, and it will be done." Neia said, and when the bodies were dumped and the village expressed their awe and gratitude, Neia was quick to depart.

When she returned to the caravan, while she waited for the wagons to be reloaded, she sat down to write. She wrote two missives, one to the Sorcerer King, and one to the people of the Holy Kingdom's capital.

The former sought his counsel on matters of war, when it was just to fight and not to fight, when it was just to show mercy and when it was just to leave survivors, and how to know who deserved to survive. The latter informed the people of their actions, and she dispatched a rider with the letter and the severed head of a tigerman as proof of her actions. The former letter would wait until an agent of the Sorcerer King delivered supplies, but the latter would be read to the people immediately.

A few days later, when the letters arrived, the response was overwhelming. Hundreds of demihumans dead, a tigerman chieftain slaughtered and his severed head on display, the reputation of Black Justice was now surpassing that of the Paladin order, and people flocked to their ranks. But all was not as well as it seemed. In the palace, Remedios tried to keep her tone with the King even. "Majesty you MUST send us out to deal with these troubles, these people may tie us to the Sorcerer King for resources, but they are traitors one and all."

"Yesssss..." Count Handor said with his hands wringing in front of him, our noble head of the Paladin Order is completely correct, such people represent a rogue element, the open fighting in the streets, the summary execution of one of our own guards, and now these wild tales of demihuman bands...it's all too much! I suggest we immediately send out the Paladin Order, if for no other reason than that finding this danger and eliminating it is exactly why they exist, their reputation must be improved to secure the trust of the people.

Dopple-Caspond stroked his chin in thought, "I would prefer not to send you personally, however sending out a thousand paladins and two thousand squires should be sufficient to handle most bands that they might encounter. How soon can you have them ready to depart?" He asked.

Remedios Custodio was not known for her great intellect, but as an experienced campaigner she had a rough idea of what was necessary based on past practices. "I can have them ready in roughly one month assuming all goes well. Two months if there are delays in supplies." She said confidently.

"See to it then, I authorize the requisitioning of all the supplies you need from our current stores, your order's mission is the rooting out of evil in our Holy Kingdom. Have them depart as soon as you are able." The King said confidently. Remedios left the throne room with a bow and a smile she hadn't worn in some time.

Count Handor seized the opportunity presented, "Majesty, as the best members of Black Justice have now departed, and the head of the Paladin Order is sending away many more of our soldiers, might I suggest that the nobles be given the charge of supply reception and distribution. We can supply our own people at our own cost, true it is a sacrifice, but it is one we can and should make for the sake of our Holy Kingdom and its suffering population."

The King considered it for a moment, and then nodded, "Very well, select a group of nobles who would excel at this kind of thing, and submit the list for my approval, you will handle the distribution of various goods to the population and to the rebuilding effort." Doppel-Caspond was not nearly the fool the real Caspond was, when he gave that order, he saw the slight widening of the eyes in Count Handor, that he knew to be a sign of greed, though he pretended not to see it, and yawned instead, vaguely remembering a phrase he had heard Lord Ainz use once long ago, about giving someone enough rope to hang themselves with. At the time it did not make sense, but now...he thought he understood. He reached over and took a goblet of wine, and drank as a member of Black Justice, the former Captain Robel, entered and approached with a petition. As the man did so, Doppel-Caspond wondered how much chaos could exist in a few ounces of ink.


End file.
